After the Storm
by Ed's Tomato
Summary: Toad wakes to find himself in prison and he has difficult choices to make. Not a completly original concept, i know, but I'm doing it my way because there is a lack of Toad stuff out there.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N 09/09/08: I utterly hate this story. It's long enough and has enough reviews that I don't want to out and out delete it, but it needs revamping so badly I'm not even sure where to start. For the time being I'll leave it as is and hope that I can face getting to it to make the changes necessary. The last chapter is the worst as I forced it out after losing interest in the idea. Writing it in first person was probably a mistake.**_

_-- I believe that Toad lives. After all the X-men have that 'dont' kill' policy right? soooo they coudlnt' have killed him. NO! He's my toady love, I won't allow it. So, instead the cops found him, cuz you know, it happens. I don't really know where to go with this one, but it was a muse that bit me one day and so yeah...reviews would be appriciated. Again, I don't own any of this stuff. I sure as hell wouldn't have to be writing fan fiction if I did.--_

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**Prologue**

I'm someplace cold and hard...and I hurt. I can't open my eyes. My whole body's shaking. Oh God. It hurts so bad. My chest...MY CHEST...I want to scream...I can't. Everything itches...everything hurts...oh god it feels like my heart's gonna explode. I can't fucking breathe. I think my eyes are open...why can't I see? Oh God...why can't I see? Darkness...swirling...tilting...killing me...I WON'T DIE! Colors...still dark...I'm in a dark place...heart still hurts...can't move..but I can see. Green eyes...red hair...I know you...where am I? I hear something...a low moan...a wail...oh god ..it's me. Fingers are touching me...my face...my neck...I can't breathe...I have to tell them...my heart's going to explode. I can't speak...my tongue hurts...my jaw...my throat...it all hurts so much...I make a sound...I know I did. Green eyes are closer.

Toad?

Green eyes are in my head...everything's sharper...hurt backs off a little...can think.

Toad, it's...Jean, Dr. Grey, do you know where you are?

No...I'm on something hard...and cold...I'm on fire...but it's so cold...

You're on the floor...in jail...do you remember what happened?

WHITE HOT DEATH...oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god...Fire...I'm on fire...I can't stop shaking...I have to throw up...oh god..please...I have to throw up.

TOAD! STOP! Calm down...Toad calm down...you'r safe now...we're going to help you

...I have to throw up... I feel strong arms, picking me up, leaning me over...I'm vomiting. Oh god...I think I'm going to die...throat's on fire...and again...oh god. I can hear them...I know them...Who? I don't know...too hard to think.

"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!" There's screaming...green-eyes is yelling at someone.

"None of the doctor's would get near him ma'am, they were afraid." Stupid man...stupid man..I'll step on you...god it hurts.

"What could he possibly do in his condition?" Green-eyes again...so pretty...oh no..I'm shaking again..I can't stop...oh no...she's touching me...holding me...secure.

Toad...it's okay...it's okay..it's a muscle spasm..it'll pass

But the blackness is coming back...and I can't see...and ...

Chapter 1

I open my eyes. It wasn't a nightmare. I'm in fucking prison. The hurts all but healed. My chest is sore though. I bring a hand to my forehead and massage my temples. This is insane. Shadows consume the cell, masking a toilet and a pathetic excuse for a cot that I obviously haven't slept on.

At least I'm alone. I'm cold. My jacket's gone, all I've got is my torn t-shirt and dirty old cargo pants. I don't even have any shoes on. Maybe they're afraid that I'll strangle myself with the laces. I smirk. I vaguely recall almost dying, but push the thought out of my mind.

I can't think about that shit right now. I have to piss, but I've never been one for public restrooms, and anyone who wanders by can peer into mine. I ignore the discomfort in my bladder and try to focus on my memories. What happened?

The plan must have failed. Where was Magneto? If he was alive he would have come for me...wouldn't he? Mystique? She was fighting Wolverine...if we failed...I shake my head...she'd be dead. Sabretooth would be around, but he didn't matter...he wouldn't help me.

Oh God, Erik..you can't leave me here. I hold my head in my hands. I wonder when the last time I ate was...my stomach hurts. The discomfort in my bladder isn't lessoning. I eye the toilet and can't bring myself to do it. I push myself to my feet and realize with a start that I'm not as well as I thought. My body is stiff and sore, I'm dizzy and there's a cold feeling in the pit of my belly.

I reach out and try to steady myself on the bars of my cage. I don't know if I can deal with this. I look up as a man in a uniform walks near, eyeing me warily.

"Okay, freak, stand away from the door," he orders, and I back up curiously.

Three more men...huge men, appear at the door as it opens. They step inside as I weigh my options. No way I could take them...not how I'm feeling right now...I don't even think I could manage so much as a hop. Two stand on either side of me, holding my arms. The third kneels before and begins to shackle restraints on my legs, heavy ones.

This is not cool. I try pulling out of their grasp, but get a blunt object to the back of the head instead. Someone's fist? I go down, disoriented, and they chain me up, the biggest one shoves something in my mouth. A bit. A God Damned bit. I'm freaking now. No one's done this kind of shit to me since the orphanage, and I just can't deal. The terror is overwhelming and I've gotten to the point where I just can't move anymore. The put me on a fucking dolly and roll me down the hall. My arms are literally chained, with these huge heavy things behind my back, secured to the back of the dolly, my legs secured to either side. All I can do is moan and roll my head, which I refuse to give them the satisfaction by doing.


	2. Chapter 2

I think it's a really great idea to keep the defendant muzzled and chained during his trail. Really. I mean, what choice did they have? I might have eaten the fucking jurors.

The trial is a joke. I'm the freak on display, and the prosecutor is the good American citizen who's just trying to get justice for the families of those poor security guards. I find it somewhat amusing that they're making horror of one of the most uninspired jobs I've ever pulled off. Figures right?

My lawyer…if you can call him that. It's not as though I'd ever met him before or anything, so I can only assume since he was speaking…somewhat in my defense. He keeps claiming insanity, and all I can do is roll my eyes.

I suppose it's a good thing the jurors couldn't see that.

It's obvious that they're agreeing with everything the Prosecutor is telling them. Who wouldn't? He's now explaining that if convicted I'll be up for the death penalty… the death penalty. I suppose I should have known that was coming, but it still makes me cringe.

I bet I'll be first up too, they aren't going to want mutie-boy eating up their good tax dollars sitting in prison. If I'd known yesterday was my last day to taste fresh air I might have appreciated it more.

No point in regrets now, I guess. Not sure when a better time for them would come along though. Where's Magneto? I keep half expecting him to rip open the ceiling and come down for me. Mags really likes the dramatic.

But he doesn't come, and the jurors leave to deliberate. It's not gonna take long. I wonder if I'll even get this bit taken out long enough for a last meal. It'll probably be deemed too hazardous. I'll probably be wearing this when they fry me.

I'm getting morbid. I'm too young too die. Like that makes a difference.

The jurors return, but there's something odd about them. They look dazed. Juror number one reads a slip of paper.

"We the jury find the defendant guilty of murder in the second degree"…

Second degree, how'd they figure that?

… "And sentence him to probation at the discretion and jurisdiction of the Xavior Institute of Higher Learning, where he will receive psychiatric rehabilitation for the next 15-30 years depending upon his behavior and improvement."

They sentence me to what? If my mouth hadn't already gone dry from the damned bit, it would have now. The Xavior Institute? So that explained the dazed expressions…but why?

The rest of the day was somewhat of a blur. They took me back to my cell and I waited there until that red headed doctor showed up with her one-eyed boyfriend, to get me. I almost remember seeing her in my dream, and wonder vaguely if she was really here.

I can't imagine why she would have been.

They peer into the cell to see me. I'm hunched in the corner waiting, watching. I hate them, the same as I hated the jurors and the rest of the normals. They're here to help the poor unfortunate Toad. They're still seeing me as a freak.

I don't speak to them on the way to the Institute. My new home for the next fifteen-thirty years. My God. I'm going to have to tolerate these people for the next fifteen years.

I'll be just shy of forty when I get out.


	3. Chapter 3

My first day in my new prison. They're apparently leaving me alone, which is smart of them. I am in no mood. I haven't heard a peep about why they sprung me or what they expect from me for the next fifteen years of my habitation with them.

The redhead smiled when she brought me lunch. Didn't I try to kill her? Cor, why is she being nice to me? Does she know something I don't? Are they going to start torturing me? Being in this room is torture enough. I can't stand being locked up, never could.

Better get used to it, mate. Looks like you're in it for the long haul. I had cigarette's waiting for me on a table when I came in. I don't know how they knew, but somehow they did.

Makes me nervous that they're giving me stuff. Makes me nervous that they somehow know how bad I've been pinning for cigarettes. Of course, if they can sway a whole jury I guess finding out my bad habits isn't so tough.

I light one and lay back on the bed; which is ridiculously more comfortable than anything else I've ever lain on. I suddenly understand their methods. They're going to lavish me with gifts until I crack. Can't say I'll argue with that.

There's a moderately sized bathroom adjoining my new 'cell'. It's wallpapered with something that looks like it should be on wedding invitations. The bathtub is huge. There are massively soft towels everywhere…for my convenience I suppose. I'm reminded, just looking at it, why I hate them so much.

Doesn't stop me from taking a bath.

First time in years I've really soaked. They even have bleeding bubble bath. My clothes are a black splotch on the ground, tainting the tile with filth and grunge. My skin looks even more sickly yellow-green against the cream of the bathroom. Look at me, confined for a few hours and I'm already going nuts.

I sit in the tub until my skin gets all pruny, and suddenly I feel like a little kid and instead of making me laugh, it scares me. I'm almost shaking by the time I stand on the tile dripping on my dirty clothes and fumbling for a towel.

How am I possibly going to get through this?

Why haven't they talked to me yet? I glance at the ceiling looking for cameras. I'll bet anything they're watching me. Getting a good show. I sneer, just in case I'm on parade.

I also make sure to wrap the towel around my waist. It's not that I'm particularly modest, but I prefer to know who I'm giving the free show to. Then it occurs to me that the X-Men are pretty modest and it might just make them squirm to see the frog-man a natural. I remember the blush Mystique got from the red-head.

Prudes. Mystique looks damn hot walkin around in the nude. Man, I'm gonna miss that. Not that she ever let me hit it. Not even close. But I'll miss the view.

I'll miss a lot of things.

Finally One-Eye comes in. He has the decency to knock first. Ass. Like I could refuse his entry.

"Toad."

He looks uncomfortable. Good.

"'ello mate, come to see the show?"

"Professor Xavior would like a word with you, now that you're settled in."

"Wants me to come, sans shorts, does he? Didn't know your Professor swung that way."

"I'll bring you some clothes, what size do you wear?"

Doesn't crack a smile. What a prick.

"Aww, precious, don't trouble yu'self. Just run up me tab at Neiman Marcus."

"There's no need to be snide. I think some of Wolverine's stuff might fit you."

I can't help but laugh when he slams the door behind him. Stick stuck up his ass. Wonder if he was serious about bringing me clothes.

Will wonders never cease? He does come back and offers me a wad of clean smelling clothes that almost fit. I'm a short guy. The prick even stands politely out in the hall while I get dressed.

How can I be expected to put up with this shit for fifteen years without losing my mind? What little of it I have left.


	4. Chapter 4

When I'm dressed, and I have to say, despite the fact that it's not my style the duds are comfortable, I knock on the door and grin at 'ole stick-up-his-ass through the window.

He lets me out, and I'm half surprised that they don't try to shackle me or anything. I guess he thinks if it came down to it he could take me. He'll find he was wrong on that. Or maybe they think I'll be grateful that they kept me out of jail. They'd be wrong there too.

So, we walk down these immaculate hallways. Pristine and homey, and just drenched in money. It's disgusting.

There's Charlie-X sittin in his little chair and waiting for me with a big smile. I've never wanted anything so much as to slime that guy and wipe that smile right off his face. I'd better wait and find out what they have planned. I'm still hurt from the battle and the lot of them might just have a chance with me right now. Me being in their house and all.

That's the X-Men, they like to gang up on ya. They're not really into the fair fight, one on one bit. S'long as they win they don't care how they do it. I can't believe they have the nerve to call me the criminal.

I follow the old git into his office and take a seat when he asks me to. See? I can play nice too. So then he drops what I'm sure he expects to be a great bombshell: that HE and his Illustrious X-Men interceded on my behalf. He sure looks impressed with himself.

I just nod, and try to look as indifferent as I feel. You gonna tell me why, old man? It dawns on me that the old bugger is probably eavesdropping on my thoughts, so I try to conjure up some unpleasant mental images. No reason why the guy shouldn't' regret his decision.

"There was no way you were going to get a fair trial, Mortimer."

"Don't call me that."

Presumptuous FUCKER.

"My apologies. But the X-Men and I determined that since you were acting under Magneto's orders and not of your own volition that you deserved a chance at rehabilitation. I know just how manipulative Erik can be."

Oh, I'll bet you do know a thing or two about manipulation, don't you, Chuck? But I'll bet you don't' know a hell of a lot about people acting under their own volition. Because I was. I chose to be there, and I don't regret a damn thing.

He heard that, I'm sure of it. I saw a muscle in his cheek twitch. His eyes darkened and he leaned forward.

"If you'd rather go to jail, Mr. Toynbee."

Oh ho, the great Charles Xavior resorting to threats. What does he think I'm going to let myself be caught again? I'm out of here as soon as I leave this office.

I think the old man really expected me to be grateful. He doesn't understand Magneto at all. He was trying to place all the blame on him; I'm just the poor misguided kid that got caught up in his plans and used as a pawn. No wonder he sprung me. He doesn't think I've got the wit given to a damn pigeon.

"I assure you, that isn't true. We are well aware of your intellectual capabilities. And your capacity for great evils. We are also aware that Magneto found you as a child, and that your life before that was less than optimal."

Heh. That's an understatement. What does he feel guilty that it wasn't he and his X-Men that pulled me out of the London underground? Well, get over the guilt trip old man, you did your good deed and now I'm gone.

I stand up, but before I can turn to leave my body goes rigid. I HATE that old man. And I don't' think anything he says or does will ever change that.

Fine. I get it. I can't bloody leave. Of course, you have to sleep sometime.

"I've thought of that." The old goat is smiling now and it's giving me the creeps.

"Dr. Grey inserted a microchip under your skin while you were incapacitated in jail. It will monitor your whereabouts at all times, and if you are to leave the premises you'll be going directly to prison to await your execution."

There's nothing I can say to that. I'm screwed. I really am going to have to stay here.

"The rules are as follows, Mr. Toynbee: You will take your meals with the rest of the staff, you will undergo psychiatric evaluation, and you will not antagonize any of the staff or students. Is that understood?"

"And if they antagonize me?"

"Be on your best behavior, Mr. Toynbee."

And it's back to my room. One-eye tells me that dinner's at eight. Like he actually expects me to eat with them. Although, that could be fun. I imagine consuming everything on the table with my tongue.

I'd probably skip dinner anyway, but I haven't' really eaten in a couple of days and my body's still healing. I have to be smart, instead of proud, and make myself well again. Won't do to escape, if they can catch me for I round the block.


	5. Chapter 5

---Hallo everyone, and thank you all for the reviews! My loyal Toadling followers keeping me going at what, for me, is record pace here. That being said, let me apologize for this next installment. It didnt' go as I had planned. Jean got overzelous with her busi-bodyiness and then Mort just ran with the anger and the angst. I'm not sure if I'm entierly happy with it, but we'll see how it goes. Hate it when the silly buggers get minds of their own and stop listening to me. DAMN YOU...I KNOW WHAT'S BEST. GET YOUR GREEN ARSE BACK IN LINE! But you know he never listens. And the Red-Menace only pretends to...placating whore.

OKAY, and on with the tale, nomatter how lousey...

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This is awkward. I could have told Chuck that forcing his precious X-Men to socialize with a member of the 'other team' days after our biggest fight ever, wouldn't be the hottest idea. But hey, he's the telepath, and honestly I think it goes without saying.

To her credit, Red is eating at what I assume is a normal pace and is even trying to make civil conversation. Somehow though, it manages to make her seem even more bizarre in respect to the rest of the room.

Weather-bitch has her arms crossed and is pointedly staring at the wall and not touching her lasagna. One-eye is trying to eat, but keeps glancing at me and tightening his lips together. Looks like all the blood's drained right out of his head. Wolverine looks about as happy to be there as I am, and I wonder briefly if Baldy's making him be social too.

I try to make the best of it, I really do. As optimistic as I ever get. I glare at Weather-bitch, I stick my tongue out nonchalantly at one-eye, and I keep my appendages as far away from Wolverine as I possibly can. I like how Baldy enforces the rules from afar instead of at the table with us. Bet he's eating in his room and watching the tube.

"Are you feeling better?"

I nearly gag on a piece of lasagna that I was actually attempting to eat with a fork. My eyes bug out (more so than usual) and I think I manage to get out a strangled sort of noise before I get it down. Way to act nonchalant, Toynbee.

"Bloody brilliant," I croak out, sounding more like my namesake than I wanted to. Nobody at the table's bound to forget now.

Red just keeps on talking as though frogmen gagging at her table were a regular occurrence. And as though what I'd said hadn't come out as sarcastic as possible.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. The Professor wanted to begin your physical therapy as soon as possible."

Can't help it, I had to answer that.

"My what?"

"Physical therapy," Bitch acts like I just didn't hear her correctly, "We want to make sure you don't have any long term injuries from the lightning strike."

The reminder gets an extra glare for Her-Highness, Queen of the Toad Zappers.

The rest of the meal goes more or less the same with a few more thrown in glares and a premature exit from Wolverine, who mutters something about preferring to eat with lepers. My sentiments exactly, although I'm pretty sure he was referring to me.

After I choke down as much as I can in the presence of my most mortal enemies, I'm escorted back to my room where Red tries to suggest I take a nap. I think that woman honestly believes I don't have the mental capacity of a goat.

I light my fourth cigarette of the evening and stare out the window. Dinner might have been funny if I hadn't actually had to experience it. I can imagine Sabretooth getting a good laugh. Christ, things must be bad if I'm starting to miss Big n' Hairy.

I must have nodded off because when I wake up again it's night and moonlight is streaming through my window. They can't imagine how cruel it is to give me a window when they won't let me go outside. It's like freedom is right there, I can almost taste it, but I can't. I can't trust that I could get away and make it on my own.

Even if I knew where the implant was, or how deep under my skin, could I take it out? I've mended my own broken bones and sewn my own stitches, but carving a big hole in my body and fishing out computer chips doesn't sound too appealing. I could do it though. I could do whatever I have to.

But I don't know where it is. And I'm still a mess from my run in with Storm. And I don't know what to do with out Magneto. I don't think I could get him out of prison if I even knew where he was being held.

That's it, Toady, I tell myself. That squares it. You have to just sit tight. At least until you get word that Magneto's out. Or even Mystique for that matter, although I have no reason to believe she's alive except she's hard to kill. Hell, I'd take 'Tooth at this point.

There's a knock at my door which is a surprise considering when I glance at the clock it reads one am. Would have figured this lot for 'early to bed-early to riser'-ers. I have to catch myself as I get up to answer it, instead I just grunt 'Wot?' as rudely as I can.

It's Red again. I can only assume that she must have some kind of community service arrangement that forces her to make nice with the 'baddies'.

"Hi, I was wondering if we could talk."

She's smiling, and I don't get it. I just don't get it. Where's the punch line. Why is this funny?

"What about, Peaches?"

She takes a seat on the edge of my bed and smiles down at me like we're friends. I have to scramble for a cigarette to mask the way my hands are shaking. I don't want to be friends, lady, take a hike!

"I know that you've had a hard time of it, Mortimer."

I swallow. Where's she going with this? Had a hard time with what, exactly? But I don't answer. Maybe if I just look at her like she's nuts, she'll get the picture and leave me alone.

"They called me after they found you. I'm known in the medical community for my willingness to work with Mutants."

"Bully for you."

"They couldn't have known your injuries where inflicted by my teammate," she smiles at this point. Like she expects me to think it's funny and ironic. It's not bloody funny. I nearly bleeding died.

"You were having anxiety attacks…reliving the moment when the lightning struck you during your dreams…even when you were awake. I had to go into your mind to calm you down."

I vaguely remember red hair and the pain lessoning. Guess she really was there. She leans forward at this point and puts a hand on my knee.

"It wasn't just the lightning strike that was giving you the attacks, Mortimer…I saw all of it."

Why is she touching me? My breath catches in my throat and I pull out of her reach, backing toward the farthest corner of the bed. What the Hell does she mean she saw all of it?

"You have so many horrible memories, Mortimer. That's why I convinced the Professor to help you."

"You convinced?" I can't believe I'm hearing this. I can't believe she's doing this to me. Sifting through my thoughts like some fucking freak show at the circus. Amusing and grotesque. I suddenly remember Xavior making reference to my past. Vague son of a bitch. Wanting me to think he didn't really know.

"Yes, Mortimer, I know the terrible things that happened to you."

"Don't…"

"But they weren't your fault. You shouldn't have had to end up this way."

She's moving closer to me again, and all I can think is that I have nothing left now. I have no freedom. I don't even have my own memories, my own hate or anger. It's just all been tossed up to the X-men. To the compassionate Jean Grey, who's only fucking doing this for my own good?

I have to get a hold of myself. She's attempting to turn over all my barriers at once, and my mind is reeling. I almost wonder if I can feel her there, trying to put out a soothing hand and reach into my subconscious.

She is reaching out a hand toward me.

I grab her wrist and I press her hand back, threatening to break it.

"Don't you dare fucking call me Mortimer."

Her eyes go wide. She thought she was reaching me. Her hand goes slack, trying to seem non-threatening. BullSHIT. I've never felt so threatened.

"Now, you look here, Peaches," I hiss, "Whatever you thought you saw, it's MINE. You think you understand me? That I'm some lost puppy for you to rescue? You're wrong. You made a mistake 'helping' me. I don't want to be helped. I don't want your charities, and I don't want your pity and most of all I don't want some know it all, normal-looking Bitch bullying her way into my head when I can't stop her, and FUCKING with MY memories."

She doesn't answer me right away. She just looks at me. Wondering, I suppose, if she was completely wrong to even try. I might be flattered if I didn't hate her so much. But you don't do that. You don't go into the most sacred thing a person has, and just peer at it like a bug under a microscope…or an edition of some cheesy tabloid. 'Frog Boy severely beaten.' My anguish isn't an amusing headline. I am not a sitting here waiting for her to fix me.

"I'm sorry, Toad," she sounds uncomfortable calling me that. Thought she knew me. Thought she was reaching Mortimer. Doesn't know this Toad fellow. Doesn't understand how he can be in place of what she thought was there.

"Not everyone is waiting in line for their chance to be an X-Man."

She nods, as though I'm being reasonable. She looks disappointed. I don't understand why she's still here.

"I didn't mean to snoop in your mind, Toad," she stands up, endeavoring to regain dignity lost, "You were broadcasting every moment of your life. I thought you were going to go insane. All I could think of was that Storm was responsible for this. X-Men aren't supposed to kill, and she very nearly killed you. I was angry with her, at the police and the way they were mistreating you. I was trying to help you."

She's across the room now, not trying to touch me, not trying to reach out. I give her a look. One of my tilted head numbers that I do out of habit when I'm puzzled.

"I shouldn't have pushed so fast. I made a mistake. I'm sorry. We really do want you to be happy here, Toad."

"Why?"

She smiles sadly at me, reaching for the doorknob.

"Because I want you to be wrong about us, Toad. I want to know that people as unhappy as you are can find happiness here too. I want you to know that it's Magneto living the lie…not the X-Men."

I snort.

Fat bloody chance.

Then she's out the door and down the hall and I'm alone again, reflecting on the strange turn of events my life has taken. I don't know what to make of her. I'm still furious that she's traipsed around in my mind, but I don't know that what she's said wasn't true. I have bits and pieces of memories in that cell that coincide with what she's told me.

The truth is. I don't want to like it here. I don't want to be part of society anymore. I want to squash society beneath my boots before they can ground me beneath theirs.


	6. Chapter 6

Nobody bothers me the next day. One-eye brings my meals and doesn't look at me. Wonder if he knows what happened with his girlfriend. He seems to the type to come in fists flailing if he did. She's probably embarrassed that her attempts failed.

Night falls and I haven't left this room. I've barely left the bed. Again, I hear the crickets outside and I long to be free of this place.

I'm surprised that they didn't bolt my window. Not that it would have done any good, but I would have expected them to try. It opens easily, noiselessly. What would it hurt if I just left the room for a little while?

I climb slowly out the window, expecting an alarm to sound at any second. But it's silent. My toes touch the grass, cool and dewy. The fresh air tastes so good.

I just walk for a while, thinking. I'm careful to stay on the property, but the yard is huge. I don't really have to worry. I walk by the stable, hands shoved in my pockets. Can't believe they have a fucking stable.

A horse sticks it's head out of a window and looks at me. It's breath fogs the cold night air. I reach out a hand tentatively, and stroke it's face. Softer that I would have though, stronger too. It doesn't seem to mind that I'm green.

The nose is velvety, the whiskers tickle. I smile. Not a look that most people get to see, but it doesn't matter when it's just a horse. Not like it's going to tell people I have feelings, that I can be nice. If they find out I might lose my edge.

After awhile I leave the horse and keep walking toward a large oak tree near the back of the yard. One agile bound and I'm in one of the highest branches, looking up at the moon and lighting a cigarette. I can't believe the peace of this place when it's night. When all the pretentious assholes and well-meaning pricks have gone to bed.

I shut my eyes for a moment, inhaling, letting the familiar calm of nicotine wash over me. I wish that it could stay this way. I wish…

"Thought you weren't supposed to be out."

I turn to see Wolverine sitting in branch near me. I never even heard him climb up. I wonder if he's really that good or if I just let myself become distracted. I shrug.

"Just wanted to get some air, wasn't going nowhere."

Wolverine nodded. He seemed like the solitary type and I couldn't figure out why he would pick my tree out of all the ones on the property to sit in.

"Silent alarm in your room went off. I told Jeannie I'd check on you."

Shit. So there had been an alarm. I should have checked better. I was just in such a hurry to get out. I'm getting sloppy.

"Well, here I am. Do I need to go in?"

"Naw, just don't start causing trouble."

"I wasn't going to."

He sits there with me for a little while. I'm getting tired and my eyelids droop, but I don't' want to be the first to go in.

"Jeannie's methods might not always be right, but she means well."

I look over at him. If he thought he was going to come out here and sell me on Red he was sadly mistaken.

"It doesn't matter."

"I know it aint easy for you, but you'll get along better if you at least make an effort."

"Easy for you to say, not being held against your will an all that."

"Maybe it is easies for me. Doesn't make it any less true."

He drops down from the tree and lands with a grunt before heading back across the lawn. A dark figure in the moonlight.

I shut my eyes before following suite. I climb back in my window unless someone's waiting to talk at the front door. I wish once more for Magneto's guidance. He'd know what to do in this situation. He'd have the X-Men eating out of his hand. But I'm not him. I'm just Toad.

I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. What's the reason to stay awake and on guard now?

When I wake in the morning I feel a sense of dread wash over me. Today I'm supposed to start my psychological examination, and my rehabilitation into society. Whatever that mean.

Sure enough, One-Eye shows up at the door half an hour later and I follow him down the hall to Chuck's office again. Inside the old man is waiting with a pretty young brunette. A normal. I'm sure of it.

"Mr. Toynbee, thank you for joining us. This is Dr. Camphree, she's going to be your psychologist."

Bloody brilliant. I grunt at her. Don't wanna be too rude, unless she somehow has the power to stick me back in jail. She pales a little, bet she wasn't quite expecting me. No matter how many times you're warned, face to face is always different.

"Mr. Toynbee, it's very nice to meet you. I look forward to our time together."

Yeah RIGHT.

"The two of you can use my office. We'll be right outside if you need anything."

What he means is, he'll be waiting outside in case she gets scared. She just smiles and waits until he shuts the door behind him before she takes a seat and motions that I dot he same.

"Well, Mr. Toynbee, I realize that this sessions wasn't exactly your idea, but I hope that you'll wish to make progress anyway."

Progress at what exactly? I just look at her.

"Let's start with you telling me a little about yourself."

I have to hold an eye roll in check as I stare at her.

"For instance…uh..what kind of music do you like?" She smiles brightly at me.

"I don't."

"You don't like music? Hmm, well alright, what's your favorite er color?" She seems to realize at the last second that wasn't an appropriate question to ask me.

"Green."

It's not. I really couldn't care less about having a favorite color, but I like to see her squirm. She tries to smile.

"What about your family, your parents?"

"Don't have any."

"I guess that was pretty hard growing up alone." Her eyes gleam, she thinks she's sparked upon something.

"I guess it was."

"What about your friends growing up?"

"Didn't have any." This is getting to be repetitive.

"Not any? Surely you had one or two?"

"No. I didn't."

She tries to change tactic, seeing that I'm being unresponsive.

"What about your favorite food?"

I smile.

It scares her.

"Pigeon."

She looks at me oddly, confused. She doesn't get it.

"Pigeons aren't edible…"

I wish the windows were open so I could snag one and give her a show. I want to see her cry.

I shrug.

"Mr. Toynbee we'd make a lot more progress if you wanted to communicate."

I shrug. Now do you get it, Doc? I want to be left alone, I don't want to make progress.

"Alright, why don't you tell me about your time with the Brotherhood of Mutants."

I just look at her. Uh uh.

"Your leader was a man named Erik Lensher, correct? Were you close to him?"

I don't even blink. I'm not playing this game.

"Do you consider them friends? Family?"

"…"

"How do you feel about Erik Lensher's incarceration?"

He's in jail? Nobody bothered to tell me. At least he's alive.

"What about the disappearance of the others in your group? A Raven Darkholme and a Viktor Creed?"

Mystique would hate it if she knew they were calling her that.

"How do you feel about being here, at the Xavior Institute?"

That one I'll answer.

"I'm bleeding thrilled. I just can't wait for them to brainwash me and make me one of their lit'l toy soldiers."

"So, you'd rather be in jail?"

"Not much difference, really."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. The Professor has great hopes for your rehabilitation."

"Didn't ask 'im to."

"No, I suppose not. Well, our time is up Mr. Toynbee, but I'll be back next week. I look forward to speaking with you then."

She leaves me sitting there and walks to the door, turning back at the last minute.

"Mr. Toynbee, a stipulation of your release here is that you speak with me. If you can't bring yourself to do that it will be difficult for you to stay out of prison."


	7. Chapter 7

--As promised, an UPDATE.. BWAH HA HA...yeah..and sorry for the song part..I was listening to music and you know how that goes? Well..at any rate...it's stuck in my head all the time now. S'wot I get.--

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Next up for the day is the Danger Room. That's what they call their bleeding training room. The 'Danger Room'. Have you ever heard anything as ridiculous in your whole life? I haven't. And I've seen many a ridiculous thing.

After wishing my therapist a fond farewell (Yeah, RIGHT) I follow One-Eye to their 'secret underground compound' of which I have the schematics memorized. He turns to me, looking all-serious, like what he's about to say will truly impact me.

"Now, whatever happens in the danger room is set not to kill you, but that doesn't mean you can't get hurt, so if at any time you're afraid please don't hesitate to have us end the program."

"Me, Afraid? I'm touched, Visor-boy, really, but I think I can 'andle yor lit'l 'Danger Room'."

He snorts and opens the door to this big metal gymnasium. I'd whistle under my breath if I didn't want them to know I'm impressed, but it's a lot huger than I had anticipated.

"I'll be in the control room."

"Whatever you say, Mate."

I go inside and it's just a big metal room. That's it. I wander to around the middle of it and glance up impatiently at the control room I see spying down on me. Sure enough One-Eye, his girlfriend, Storm, and Wolverine are all looking down at me. Professor Xavior wheels in while I watch.

"Training Program Lvl 2 initiate."

Suddenly colors swirl around me and settle in a jungle scene around me. The technology certainly isn't as bad as the name is. Where the hell did they get their hands on this stuff?

I don't' have much time to think because out comes a panther and I expect a real fight. I don't' get it though. I jump in the air and come cracking down on it's skull and that's it. It's lying there in a pool of it's own simulated blood. I glance up at the control room with a raised eyebrow and a 'this all you got?' look.

What sounds suspiciously like Wolverine's voice echoes over the microphone.

"Training Program Lvl 23 initiate."

That's a mite of a hop there. The colors swirls again, and I'm in the same jungle, but a different section of it. I hear a crash through the underbrush and see Sabretooth come barreling out to meet me. Oh goody. I always wanted to put that big lout in his place.

I leap up, intending to give him a bone cracking kick to the face, but he catches me by the ankle and hurls me at a tree. Ow. I shake my head, trying to clear the dizzying sensation I'm experiencing and be ready for what comes next.

Sabretooth pounces and I dodge, this time delivering a kick to his nose. I chuckle as I watch it spurt blood. This is getting fun.

He roars in anger and charges me, I twist my body around just in time, leaping into the air and slamming my tongue around his neck. I start to choke him, but his claws go for my tongue, so I have to reel it back in.

He then backhands me and blood flies from my split lips, but I use the momentum to bring my leg up and slam it against his cheek as I'm falling. I do a back handspring to get to my feet and crouch there, breathing hard.

Fighting's the only time I really feel good. Focused. Nothing to dwell on but training and instincts.

Not waiting for him to rush me again and I run toward him and jump up on his chest. My boots dig into the fabric there as I grab his hair to hang on and spit a large ball of slime over his mouth and nose. An extra kick to the ribs for good measure and I'm out of there.

He manages a good swipe across my ribs before focusing on trying o get the already hardened gunk off his face. He's running out of air and I run toward him taking advantage of his predicament to kick him in the back of the head. Long as I keep him busy he can't work on getting free.

He goes face down in the dust and I'm sure he would have growled if he'd been able to. He flips over and grapples with the slime again, but I land atop him and cock my head.

"Naughty naughty, we can't be doing that, can we?"

I punch him in the face as hard as I can and I keep doing it until the program self-terminates and I'm sitting there punching the floor.

My knuckles are bleeding, so I stop and sit back on my haunches, waiting for the X-Men to fuck with me some more.

It appears they're done for the day because Red comes in and doctor's my wounds quietly and then leads me back to my room.

"You don't hold back, do you?"

I cock my head at her, confused.

"When you fight, you don't hold back at all."

"That's not how you win."

She doesn't say anything else, but opens the door for me and watches me lay down before she closes it again. Wonder how they think I did. The real Sabretooth wouldn't go down so easily. I still think I could take the brute, but I wouldn't come out of the battle unscathed. I'm not stupid.

I lay back and try to digest the days events. Erik is in prison. That means a rescue isn't coming for me anytime soon. I have a sneaking suspicion that Erik's the one expecting a rescue from me. Bet he'll be pissed off when I don't come.

I get up and take a quick shower washing off the blood and sweat from the 'battle'. I'm sore, but it feels good to have been active, even if it was staged.

Besides, it'll keep me in top form for when I have to escape from this hole. It occurs to me that the X-Men are pretty stupid to keep me trained up when they know I'm looking for every opportunity to get out of here. Are they cocky enough to think it won't make any difference?

The good thing about fighting for yourself is that you don't' have anything to lose. The X-Men, if I even take one of their number down they'll be heartbroken. So they have more manpower, but they also have the most to lose. If I die in the attempt, I die. No one's really going to miss me.

After I'm dressed I lay back down until I hear music outside. I peer through the blinds to see a few of the students dancing in front of speakers. Must be having a party. I shake my head with a grin. Bet I could ruin it for them.

I switch off the lights and raise the blinds, opening the window and peering out at them. The music comes to me full force. I've never really been one for normal's music, but I have to smirk at how apropos the song playing is.

'I walk a lonely road. The only one that I have ever known. I don't know where it goes, but it's only me and I walk alone. I walk this empty street on the boulevard of broken dreams.'

I snort. What can the singer of this song know about walking alone. Being totally alone. He's one of the masses. One of the normals. He's not alone. I'm alone.

I have good night vision, but it comes at a price. My eyes pick up the light from their campfire and glow almost luminously. And, as luck would have it, one of the students spot me.


	8. Chapter 8

--- Sorry JennMel, not Rogue, although she's there I have a hard time seeing her being okay with Toad after he was part of the group who tried to murder her. Attempted murder makes people squeamish I think…unless they like the danger…wink wink.

--And thanks so much for everyone else who Reviewed! Also..the charecters ignored me again on this chapter and just did as they pleased, so I refuse to be held responsible for anything you don't like. Blame Mort. He's a horny, drunk, villianous Brit, what can I say?

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I can tell it's a girl by the way she walks. Sashays is more the word. One hand on her hip, until she reaches the window and leans a hand on the sill trying to look me over in the dark.

"I heard we had a resident criminal, but no one told me he was so handsome."

I almost snort. She has some balls walking up to me if she knows who I am. Lucky the girl can't see in the dark as well as I can, or she'd be thinking differently.

"You should practice your pickup lines, that ones a little tired."

She grins, her white teeth shining with light from the fire.

"This party's a bore, come liven it up with me."

The girl has no fear. I smile. Directly to the point, and troublesome. I admire that in a woman.

"I must have misplaced my invite."

"It's alright, you can come as my guest."

She doesn't miss a beat, and just plays off me. I lean my forearms on the sill and move my head nearer hers. If she couldn't tell before that I'm not the right color she can now. It's dark but not that dark. She doesn't even blink.

I shouldn't leave the room. I have a feeling the X-Men will be furious about it, but what can they do? I'm being invited, it's not like I just traipsed in of my own accord. And I won't hurt any of their little darlings. Besides it'll be satisfying to anger them up a bit.

I look the girl over, the smile is positively devilish, reminds me of Mystique when she's in a rare good mood. Any allies I can accumulate here would be good. When I break out I can take them with me, a peace offering to Magneto for taking the charity of his enemies.

I get up to climb out the window.

"Got anything to drink?"

"Nothin legal."

She takes my arm, doesn't even hesitate. I wonder if she knows who I really am, or if she's just showing off. Either way I admire her bravado.

She leads me toward the campfire where the crowd is too busy getting drunk to notice me. I wonder how they're getting away with that, two telepaths in the area, and they're not trying too hard to be quiet either.

The girl hands me a beer and I swallow it gratefully. Oh how I've missed beer, even if it is some piss poor yankee crap.

"Teachers don't mind you lot makin asses of yourselves?" I ask her and she laughs.

"Only one home is the Wolverine and he said as long as he doesn't have to drive anyone to the hospital he doesn't care what we do."

My impression of Wolverine has increased tenfold.

The girl begins to dance rubbing up against me alluringly. I concentrate on swallowing the beer and reaching for another. Women don't make a practice of treating me this way. Not that I'm not enjoying it mind, but it's a little out of my realm of knowledge.

"I'm Tabitha, by the way" she whispers as she sidles up closer to me. I'm not dancing but she's doing enough for the both of us, "Tabitha Smith. People call me Boom Boom."

A few of the more sober students around us have begun to notice that I'm there and are keeping their distance. They keep having their fun, but they eye me worriedly. I don't make eye contact; I'm enjoying Tabitha's attention too much to let myself be distracted. Even if she's just doing this to make a statement, or to amuse herself for the moment, I'm liking it.

I start on another beer as the song changes. It's a faster number and Tabitha seems irritated that her slow sensuous gyrations against me will be out of place with the upbeat song. I hand her a beer, and she flashes a cocky grin at me.

"Tabby," hisses a boy nearby, "What the Hell are you doing?"

"Having fun." She never takes her eyes off me, and I have to say I'm flattered.

"That's Toad, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know. I watch the news as much as you do Sam," she's dancing bouncily, beer in one hand, to remain easily swiggable, eyes still locked on me, but in her own little world.

She likes the danger. It makes me feel cocky.

A glance toward the table in search of another drink locks my eyes with Rogue's. She's not glaring, or frightened, just looking at me. Confused I suppose. Probably doesn't think I'm human enough to enjoy a party. Maybe under normal circumstances I wouldn't be.

I lift an eyebrow at her as if to say 'I won't hurt you, kid', but she doesn't come any closer and I'm fine with that. She pulls back into the shadows leaving behind whatever was at the table she came for.

I find another beer, beginning to feel the buzz in my system. It feels good. Another slow song comes on, something kinky sounding, and Tabitha moves closer to me. I shake my head in wonder at her, and reach for a chair.

It's not the party I came for, but the beer and the view. She dances, unbridled, and I can see in the eyes of her peers that she's considered a slut for this. Dancing with the enemy. But I see the truth. The need for the charge of electricity to keep her alive. The danger reminding her that she's here.

She drops into my lap when the song ends, and I tense. I'm not used to so much physical contact. But I realize after a moment she's drunk and I'm not really sure when that happened, but it doesn't matter. She leans against me and shuts her eyes.

I bring the beer to my lips, watching the others. What a strange turn this day has taken. I brush a strand of impossibly blonde hair out of her mouth gently and I don't think she's awake until she speaks.

"Do you understand?" She mutters, her voice a drunken half-interpreted slur.

"Understand wot luv?"

"I thought you might understand. Others don't get it."

"I understand," I promise her. And I think I might. She's different from the teachers here, and what I've seen of the other students. She feels a loss that they haven't. She's dark in ways they can't fathom. I've only known her a few hours, but it's clear to me.

She's drawn to me not in spite on my freak stature, but because of it. She recognizes one of her own. I'm drunk too. I must be, to be getting so philosophical over a hot girl in my lap. Too bad I like her or I might take advantage.

I planned to come out here and have a laugh at the students expense, drink their booze until I forgot my worries, but I find myself bonding with one of them.

I feel myself getting immersed in the culture of the people I never wanted anything to do with, and I have no choice. In my mind I'm starting to know the adults. Their first names a familiarity I don't want. I might even understand Jean Grey a little.

Memories come back to my addled brain from the night in jail. She was what kept the pain at bay. One of them must have held me while I vomited. I want to hate them. I did hate them, do hate them. But I begin to understand them, and it scares me.

I sigh. I don't want this burden of conscience. I still hate them all, especially Jean Grey for invading my only sanctuary. But I feel something else upon remembering her being the only person to help me when things were at their lowest: gratitude.

I am drunk.

My mind's wandering and I'm getting both pensive and ashamed. Not something I want to feel while in the presence of X-Men, even miniature ones.

I stand up, picking Tabitha up as I do, and dropping a new beer into the pocket of my jacket for later. I bump into the nearest student and ask where her room is. He turns a frightful shade of white and I grin. He manages to stammer out an answer.

"Second floor…names on the doors…"

I carry her across the lawn, the party still moving in full swing behind us, although I'm pretty sure I saw a few of them passed out on the lawn before we left.

She's a welcome weight in my arms. Makes me feel useful, like I have some sort of purpose. That's my driving force in life I guess, purpose. I never had one before Erik came along, and now it seems I can't get by without it.

I open the door silently, hoping not to get found out by Wolverine. I wouldn't put it past the guy to stick me with his claws when my back is turned. He's nowhere in sight.

I climb the stairs as the girl in my arms stirs and her eyes open minutely, gazing up at me bewildered.

"Hey it's you."

"Yup."

"Everyone said you're the bad guy."

"Matter of perspective, luv."

She nodded, though I think she's too drunk to understand. I know I'm too drunk to think about it.

"Knew I liked you, Greenie."

I groan out loud at the nickname. That will have to go. I see her door the names: Boom Boom and Jubilee scrawled on a posterboard tacked on it. They used lots of glitter. I push open the door to her room with my boot.

"Mort," I correct as I move toward the bed.

"That's cute," she slurs, trying it out, "Mortie. Remind me to give you a big kiss when I wake up, Mortie."

I smirk, dropping her on the bed.

"Doubt you'll remember, luv."

"Thas why you have to remind me," she demands, but yawns, her eyes beginning to shut of their own volition.

I'd thank her if I knew how, but I don't. Don't have much practice at it. I just leave her in her bed to sleep off the hangover she's sure to have come morning and head for my room a floor below. A couple days and I'm already getting soft.

When I reach my room I sit on the bed and open the last beer, making sure to drink enough that I don't second guess my actions for the night. It might almost have been called behaving, though I doubt the X-Men will see it that way.


	9. Chapter 9

Well here's another chapter, a little forced, but this was mostly the direction I was going to take it in. Blargh. My writing's been crap lately. Sorry, guys.---

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I know I haven't even had the chance to shut my eyes for twelve seconds before there's the pounding of a fist on my door. I bolt upright and immediately see the mistake in such an action. The room tilts crazily. I haven't been this drunk in awhile. Meanwhile they didn't wait for me to answer my door, it opens with a thud as it bounces against the wall and a very irate looking Cyclops is standing there.

I don't have to be able to see his eyes to know I aught to start looking for cover. My eyes dart around the room in search of something that might save me, but I think I'm pretty screwed.

He's speaking. I was preoccupied with saving my hide, but I blink as I start to listen to him.

"Wha?" I sputter out.

"I KNOW this was your doing."

"Wot was my doing?" What the Hell is going on? Did I sleep-kill someone. I don't think I have before but there's a first time for everything, right?

"He's drunk," Cyclops says matter of factly as Jean and Storm join him at the door, as though that proves something.

"Is tha' a crime?" What the Hell is it I did?

Storm glowers at me. Not unusual, but usually she's not in my room making that face.

"There are about twenty five students out there that are passed out drunk, are you telling me you didn't have anything to do with it?" Scott dares me to respond.

"Shi'..I didn' ruin yor lit'l darlings. They go' drunk all by their lonesome," And even I can tell I'm slurring pretty badly, "So I wen' ou' to 'ave a beer or three, wot's th'big deal?"

"The big deal is that NONE of them have misbehaved like this, prior to your showing up. I know you're responsible. God, just look at you, you're falling down drunk."

I shoot him a glare, I think, I'm not really sure which one is the real Cyclops. I put out a hand to steady myself on the bed frame and try to look serious.

"Oh go fuck yourselves," I mutter, only to find someone grabbing my by the collar and yanking me out of the room. An uncomfortable march down the hall and down an elevator later I find Cyclops shoving me into a cell.

When I realize where this is heading, I start to fight back, but receive a club to the back of the head for my trouble. Geez, they really must be pissed, is all I have time to think as my knees give out and I taste concrete.

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My mouth feels like it's full of cotton. My head hurts. I open one eye experimentally. Oh God…Mistake. _Light is worse_. I grunt and shut it again, but curiosity gets the better of me. Both eyes open. _Gently, gently now. Ugh. Light hurts. Head hurts. Stomach…not good._ Fingers move on the concrete floor, under me, and _okay, let's get up, Toad, you can do this. You've had a hangover before._

On my feet. I'm wobbily, but I reach out to grab the bars and that helps. Oh…bars…Oh…Shit. I'm in a holding cell. I try to remember why. Bits and pieces come back to me. Cyclops barging in, pissed off about something.

That's right. He blamed me for the little x-lings getting trashed. Like I had ANYTHING to do with that. Sheesh. You kill a few normals and all of a sudden you're stuck with the reputation of being an asshole.

Okay, so maybe I am an asshole. I'm not sure I would have had the creativity to think of getting the kiddies drunk as payback. Or rather, I think I'd have had more creativity. I'm more of a 'spray their blood out on the front lawn as a welcome home gift', kind of guy.

There's a cot behind me, that I test to find firm and comfortable, so I sit there, holding my head in my hands and wondering what the Hell else can go wrong today. Does that mean I'm going back to prison? To await my execution, is what Xavier said. Oh goody. Something to look forward to.

I sit back against the halls and rest my eyelids until I hear the clomp of boots in the hallway, approaching my cell.

"Hey Mort," Tabitha "Boom Boom" Smith appears in front of my cage. She looks way too chipper for someone who drank as much as she did last night.

I grunt something akin to a 'ello at her, and she grins.

"So, you're going to love me," She exclaims with relish, and I eye her interestedly. I was tempted to 'love' her last night, too bad I'm such a gentleman.

"Why's tha'?"

"Because everyone else was going to let you take the fall for last night, but I spoke up and got them all busted."

I raise an eyebrow, urging her to continue.

"Yup, we're all grounded for a month and forbidden to bring anything even resembling alcohol onto school premises, but I say it was worth it."

"Bet tha' made you a lot of friends." I deadpan. Curiouser and curiouser, this girl is.

"Is that all you can say?" She pouted at me,full pink lips that I find myself watering for, "I've come to get you out."

I lean forward, with some surprise as she produces a keycard and slides it through the slot next to the door. There's a buzzing and it swings open.

I try to look cool and nonchalant, and not as though I was freaking out and considering vomiting from the amount of alcohol I consumed last night as I exit the cell and lean on the door frame watching her.

"Well well, you are full of surprises, aren' you luv?"

"I still owe you that kiss," She whispers seductively, taking a full step toward me, which places her close enough to do just that. She's full flush against my body. I can feel her chest rise and fall with each breath, against mine. She tilts her head comically, as though daring me to do something.

My brain wonders how old she is and how many laws I'm breaking at this point, but do I really care? She's sexy, she's independent and she's throwing herself at me. That NEVER happens.

An arm around her waist, pulling her even closer and then my mouth's on hers. And shit, it's sweeter than I thought. And she doesn't seem repulsed, just the opposite. She opens her mouth to me and I groan into her embrace.

It would have been a damn near perfect moment too, if Cyclops hadn't taken that moment to appear at the end of the hall and clear his throat, angrily.

I take my time breaking away from her, because this is too sweet to give up and because I like to make Cyclops squirm, but when I do, he's obviously glaring at me, though I can never see his eyes.

"Tabitha. Your room. Now." He barely gets it out, his face is turning red. I smirk.

Feeling bold I grab her ass as she heads past me down the hall and she giggles in appreciation. Man, I thought Cyclops couldn't look any more angry, but his head looks about to explode.

" 'Elp you?" I try to look bored and he just stalks toward me, grabbing my by the collar.

"SHE IS A CHILD."

I shrug, still looking bored, even though he's yanking me back and forth by my shirt. Man, I wish I could just kill him. Honestly, I feel like I've been behaving myself, and this is what I get?

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER," He screeched, spit flying in my face and I grimace.

"I like 'er," I reach for his hand and yank it backward, twisting a finger nearly to the point of breaking. He lets out a yell and pauses; afraid I'll carry through. "So you can kiss my slimy green arse."

I shove him off, but leave his finger in tact. I don't look back as I stalk down the hall away from him, though I can almost hear him shaking with rage. If they were going to ship me off for this, they'd have done it by now. And she can't be _that_ much younger than I am…right?


End file.
